They look similar from the outside — a face, cast in metal. But a portrait commission and a memorial commission are different in almost every way that matters. Here is how to know which one you need.
When people first contact us, they often describe what they want in the same terms: a portrait, in metal, of someone they love. But as the conversation develops, it becomes clear that the word \'portrait\' is doing a great deal of work. Sometimes it means a celebration — a living person, a milestone, a gift. Sometimes it means something else entirely: a way of holding on to someone who is no longer here.
These are both portrait commissions in the technical sense. But they are different in almost every way that matters — in how we approach the work, in what the client needs from us, in what the finished piece is ultimately for. Understanding the difference before you enquire will help you arrive at the right brief, and help us make the right piece.
The Portrait Commission: A Person Still Present
A portrait commission, in our usage, is a piece made of someone who is alive — or who was alive at the time the source photographs were taken. The subject might be a parent at eighty, a child at three, a spouse on the occasion of a significant anniversary. The commission is celebratory in character, even when the person being portrayed is elderly and the family is thinking, quietly, about the future.
The practical advantage of a portrait commission is abundance. There are usually many photographs to choose from — recent ones, taken in good light, from multiple angles. The subject can sometimes be photographed specifically for the commission, which gives us material of a quality we rarely have access to otherwise. We can ask for a three-quarter profile in natural window light, and someone will take it.
There is also, in a portrait commission, the possibility of iteration with the subject\'s own input. We have had clients show the wax progress photographs to the person being portrayed — a grandmother, a father — and receive feedback that only the subject could give. \'The nose is a little too straight — mine has always had a slight bend from when I broke it at seventeen.\' That kind of detail is irreplaceable, and it is only available when the person is still here to offer it.
“A portrait commission is, at its heart, an act of attention — a decision to look carefully at someone while they are still present to be looked at.”
The Memorial Commission: A Person Now Absent
A memorial commission is made of someone who has died. It is the most common type of work we do, and it is the work we feel most acutely the weight of. The person cannot be re-photographed. The photographs that exist are the only evidence we have. And the client — who is almost always grieving, in some stage of it — is trusting us with something irreplaceable.
The practical challenges of a memorial commission are the inverse of a portrait commission. Photographs are often scarce, old, or technically imperfect. The best images may be from decades ago, when the person looked different from how the client most recently knew them. There is frequently a question — sometimes spoken, sometimes not — about which version of the person to capture: the young parent, the middle-aged friend, the elderly grandparent. These are not technical questions. They are emotional ones, and they require careful conversation.
The Question of Age: Which Version of the Person?
This is the question that most distinguishes a memorial commission from a portrait commission, and it is one we ask every client who comes to us after a loss: which version of this person do you want to keep?
The answer is rarely obvious. A client who lost her mother at 91 came to us with photographs spanning sixty years. She spent two weeks deciding before she told us: \'I want her at fifty-five. That\'s when she was most herself.\' Another client, who lost his father suddenly at 58, wanted the most recent photograph he had — taken three weeks before the death, at a family lunch. \'I don\'t want to remember a younger version,\' he said. \'I want to remember him as he was.\'
Both answers are right. There is no correct version of a person to preserve. But the question is worth sitting with before you come to us, because it will shape everything — which photographs we work from, what the finished piece looks like, and what it means to you when you hold it.
Timing: When to Commission
For portrait commissions, the answer is simple: as soon as you want to. There is no wrong time to make a portrait of a living person. If anything, the most common regret we hear from clients is that they waited — that they commissioned a memorial piece when they could have commissioned a portrait, if only they had thought of it sooner.
For memorial commissions, the question of timing is more delicate. We do not believe there is a correct period of grief after which a commission becomes appropriate. Some clients come to us within weeks of a death, finding the process of commissioning a portrait actively helpful — a way of doing something, of channelling the need to act. Others come years later, when the acute grief has settled into something quieter and they are ready to think about permanence.
We have never turned away a commission because it came too soon or too late. We have, occasionally, gently suggested to a client that they might want to wait a little longer — not because the commission was wrong, but because the client was not yet in a place where they could make the decisions the process requires. We will always be honest with you about this if we feel it.
“The most common regret we hear is that they waited — that they commissioned a memorial piece when they could have commissioned a portrait, if only they had thought of it sooner.”
What the Finished Piece Is For
Portrait commissions are most often worn. They are gifts — from a child to a parent, from a spouse to a spouse, from a family to a matriarch on her eightieth birthday. The piece is intended to be on the body, present in daily life, a quiet reminder of love that does not require an occasion to be felt.
Memorial commissions are more varied in their destination. Many are worn — a daughter who wears her mother at her throat every day. But many are displayed: on a mantelpiece, in a study, in a cabinet with other objects that carry meaning. Some are made in multiples — the same portrait cast several times, so that siblings can each have one. We accommodate all of these uses, and we will talk through the intended destination of the piece as part of the commission conversation, because it affects decisions about size, metal, and finish.
A Note on Commissions for Children
Children\'s portraits deserve a brief note of their own, because they present a particular challenge: children\'s faces change rapidly, and a portrait made at three will look nothing like the person at thirty. This is not a reason not to commission — it is a reason to be clear about what you are capturing. A portrait of a child at a specific age is a portrait of that child at that age: a record of a moment, not a permanent likeness of the person they will become. Many of our clients commission children\'s portraits precisely for this reason — to hold a version of a person that will otherwise be lost to time.
We have also made portraits of children who died in infancy or early childhood. These are among the most tender commissions we receive, and we approach them with particular care. If this is the commission you are considering, please know that you are welcome here, and that we will handle your photographs and your story with the greatest possible respect.
How to Know Which You Need
If the person is alive: a portrait commission. If the person has died: a memorial commission. If you are not sure which category your situation falls into — if the person is very ill, or if you are thinking about commissioning a portrait now precisely because you are aware that time is limited — please tell us. We have navigated this territory before, and we will help you find the right approach.
Both types of commission begin the same way: with a conversation, a set of photographs, and a story. Whatever brings you to us, that is where we start.
